Being a part of the working class, your mother and yourself were working under the billionaire Bentleys.

Cleaning one of the large French windows, standing on your little 7 year old tip toes, you hear steps behind you

".. hey servant..!"

His voice snickered. The Bentley's son, only a year older yet he was much taller and at much better health. His blonde hair combed, brown eyes glistening in a sort of evil..